Love for disaster
by DestinysWinterRose
Summary: Rosalie and Edward are at loggerheads. Esme and Carlisle are losing their patience.But while they enjoy a night of passion in solitude,Edward bursts in with news he never wanted to deliver,and Carlisle is presented with a difficult question. A two shot!
1. Love for disaster

_A/N: This is a story challenge presented to me by a friend. Below is what I was given to write a story with. xelectrogirlx – thanks! I hope you enjoy reading my first Carlisle and Esme fic._

_DISCLAIMER: I sadly am not the creator of Twilight - sad times for me... however, I own this story! WHOO_

**Carlisle and Esme's Story Prompt **

**Length: **As long as you want

**Warnings: **Must contain a little bit of angst/romance/fluff

**Characters: **Carlisle/Esme

**Prompt: **Must be all vampire. No humans! (Apart from the actual human characters in Twilight obviously) Must contain some sort of sex scene (it's up to you how far you go with it!)

Must start with the line, "It's not your fault..." Said by whichever character you wish.

**Personal demand: **Must emphasise Carlisle's beauty at some point, lol

**Love for disaster**

"It's not your fault," Esme whispered reassuringly into her adoring husband's ear, her slender fingers exploring each muscle of his back before gliding south, and finally, sliding around his torso where they gently tangled themselves together against his chest. From her kneeling position behind him, her chin fell forwards, resting upon his shoulder while her lips reached out to kiss his smooth, sculptured cheek. It was a rare occurrence that her husband would be seen without a scarf of some sort around his neck, and it always excited her somewhat when he allowed only her to be privy to the slightly raised scars upon his neck. As her eyes explored them momentarily, after her lips had left his skin, she wondered why he remained so disgusted by them. He may be ashamed of the slightly darker marks left viciously by his creators, but she was certainly not. It was part of him, as she knew it was innately part of her to be with him. If it had not been for the owner of those teeth, and his pain, then she would have no claim to him as she did now; her husband, her lover, her companion and mate.

"The fault is mine, and mine alone Esme," Carlisle answered, shame tainting his usually god-like voice that soothed all her senses.

"Rosalie is ..." Esme paused, searching for an appropriate and inoffensive description for their newest, adopted daughter, "... passionate. She has come from such privilege. A human life where her choices were shallow, her own, and this choice was not of her free-choosing. It will take her time to adjust."

"And that time we will allow her, naturally. We have allowed her two years already and a time has to come where she must take responsibility for her behaviour, and they must be ones that do not upset others close to her." He raised one hand and pressed it firmly to his lips, his other subconsciously stroking the length of Esme's firmly gripped arm.

"The fault this time was not solely Rosalie's, remember?" A thoughtful and indulgent expression spread across her soft features as she recalled the events of only a few hours ago. "Edward is struggling too, and to be fair he often provokes her fiery temper."

_**~~ Flash back ~~**_

_There had been no plans for the day, and as the sun was shying away behind large, dirty grey clouds, the four vampiric figures had set down a delightful spot in the rectangular shaped garden, where they would enjoy the peaceful day together. Carlisle sat upright with a particularly small medical book propped in one hand, as his other played casually with Esme's chestnut curls. Esme herself lay with her head resting in Carlisle's lap, while she picked and played with the wild flowers the garden offered her. Directly in front, but slightly to the left, sat Edward. His position was taut with tension, his expression vacant as he glared in the direction of Rosalie. She sprawled across the chequered picnic blanket, her golden hair splayed out, reaching in all directions. Her hands twisted together across her flat, toned stomach, and her long legs shook slightly as she absentmindedly twitched her feet. She was lost in thought, unaware that her personal, and private thoughts, were being invaded._

"_You really should stop thinking of them like that," Edward finally announced to the otherwise silent group. Rosalie shot up, spinning on her knees to face him. Her expression hardened and her eyes narrowed as realisation that he had been listening hit. _

"_Get out of my head!" she barked, clearly irritated, and then offered him a silent warning with nothing more than a glare. As he sat, undeterred by her blatant threat, he couldn't help but think how animalistic she appeared on all fours._

"_I am just saying ..." he began again, drawing the attention of both Esme and Carlisle._

"_Edward, leave Rose be. Let's not do this again, shall we?" Esme asked politely, though it was clearly an instruction._

"_Yes Edward," Rosalie taunted, delighted to have the support of another, which recently seemed all too rare._

"_I don't like the things she thinks, Esme, they're cruel," Edward jibed again, his eyes narrowing and still fixed upon Rosalie. She stared back, not willing to let his invasive ways be forgotten this time. _

"_They are not cruel! What is cruel is that you seem unable to be alone with _YOUR _thoughts, and blame that on me." She pulled herself upright, resting her small weight upon her knees, her beautiful expressions being spoilt by the annoyance toying within her._

"_So thinking that you are more exquisite by appearance than Esme, and that she has someone like Carlisle, and you do not, is pleasant?" A small smile tugged at the corners of Edward's lips. His fights with Rosalie, since he had refused her as a mate, had now passed the stage of annoying to point scoring against each other for amusement. Rosalie on the other hand did not see this as fun but as embarrassing and spiteful._

"_How dare you!" Rosalie cried, quickly wanting to rectify the accusation through her embarrassment. "I did not think such a thing, I only recognised that you are attractive Esme, and I was thinking that I surely deserve someone like Carlisle too!" _

"_It's fine Rosalie. Your thoughts are your own. Edward, that's quite enough," Carlisle interjected, wanting to prevent this from escalating into yet another brawl._

"_But they are not! Not with this imbecile constantly abusing his gift like this, and only at the expense of my humiliation!" Rosalie raged, her arms flailing madly about her, her golden hair waving with fury against her back._

"_I am not abusing them. I am using them to my own advantage. To know who you really are," Edward muttered, turning to examine the lavender tree behind him._

"_Rosalie, please withhold the insulting names," Esme pleaded as she pulled herself upright and brushed her hands across her face. She too had had just about enough of this constant bickering lately._

"_That's right! It's always me, isn't it? _Surely_ nothing to do with him!" One arm waved dangerously close to Edward's head, and the breeze forced him to quickly duck and turn back to face her._

"_That is not the case. Both of you stop this now," Carlisle said softly, but with an air of authority in his voice and a stern expression on his face as he looked between the two of them. He barely had time to place his book to the ground before Rosalie began again._

"_I have had enough of this!" Rosalie flew to her feet, preparing either to launch at her adoptive brother, or to flee this embarrassment. "It's not like I wanted this excuse for a life anyway! I'd be much happier if you were not here!"_

"_I believe that you would, yes," Edward answered honestly. His face instantly calmed as it abruptly dawned on him how childish and unfair he was being. The hurt he saw on Rosalie's face was enough to make him feel guilty for taunting her unprovoked ... this time. But then, Rosalie started these petty disagreements far too often, and he was certain that once in a while it was only fair for him to begin one; after all some of her thoughts were of a bitter nature whether she admitted it or not. Though, amidst their own anger and irritation, they had failed to notice the wince of pain that had etched its way onto Carlisle's features._

"_You will grow up NOW and stop this," Esme raised her voice to almost deafening levels. Carlisle's torment had not escaped her notice. "You are both far from fair! Edward, you will stay out of Rosalie's thoughts unless for a very good reason! And Rosalie ... you will stop beating Carlisle with your own qualms about what he did for you. I will not stand to watch you abuse him about this day in and day out! He thought he was saving you, giving you another chance!"_

"_Esme," Carlisle's voice was quiet, almost a whisper, and he could not bring himself to look up from the ground beneath him to his dysfunctional family. He appreciated her support, but was encouraging her to stop. Rosalie had an outspoken view on her changing into this life, and made it known often that she held a certain amount of resentment towards Carlisle for his actions to save her. But she rarely thought what it was doing to her saviour of death, or to his wife and son. _

"_Go." Esme demanded. "Both of you. Hunt and sort this out amongst yourselves and do not return until you have resolved your petty differences."_

_Each of them remained in silence for a moment, startled at Esme's unexpected outburst. She was always so calm and sweet towards them all, regardless if there was blame to one of them or not. And as the waves of surprise washed around them, each thought over their own misdoings. Before long, Rosalie turned and quickly disappeared out of sight without another word. Her anger and hate still poisoning the air she left behind._

"_Go with her Edward please. Make sure she hunts safely. You never know what may happen with the mood she has taken," Carlisle added once she had left, love and care still present in his tone. With a single nod of understanding and a quick apologetic half-smile to Esme, he rushed after his sister._

"_Let us go back inside, honey," Esme ushered while whisking around the garden to collect their belongings. "I'm sure we can trust them to sort this themselves. They are adults after all." _

_**~~ End flash back ~~**_

"They will sort it out. I'm sure having to spend time together will result in a brawl, and then all will be well again!" Esme smiled hopefully. She had faith her children would come around eventually.

"Maybe, honey, but that doesn't excuse their behaviour," he mused, taking hold of one of her hands and lifting it to his lips. He felt Esme smile as his lips pressed against her perfect, porcelain skin.

"She's confused, that's all. This is still new to her. She will be fine with Edward, eventually. As I know he will be fine with her. He just has to forget that you turned Rosalie so she could be his mate. It doesn't always work like that, like it did for us." Esme allowed her burning instincts to take over, and tauntingly pressed her lips against his neck, kissing tenderly, until she reached the teeth shaped scars. There, she spent an extra moment.

"She detests that I changed her Esme, even now. Edward is just as unhappy about it ... Two years and they still hold it against me. And I am almost certain that Rosalie hates me for it," Carlisle muttered, lost in sorrowful thought. Rosalie was the newest member of their ever growing family and seemed to struggle the most with what she had unwillingly become. Carlisle had found her bleeding and close to death in a street of Rochester after a vicious attack that she now refused to speak of. He had only done what he thought was best; he had recognised the girl and knowing how lonely Edward was, he had though she would make the perfect companion for him. Carlisle shook his head gently; he never imagined he could have been so wrong.

"Carlisle, forget about it for now. Look at me," Esme shifted her voluptuous figure, turning Carlisle's larger, muscular shape towards her. "We don't often have the house to ourselves, do we?"

"I know, you're quite right." His lips twisted into a small smile as he pushed the thoughts of Rosalie and Edward out of his mind. For now, his wife was right, they needed to make the most of this delightful autumn evening together. The sun was setting for another day, and its rays of gold, red, amber, orange and purple danced tantalisingly off Esme's flawless, granite skin. Taking to his feet, Carlisle glided around to face his wife, taking delight in the anticipation of his touch he could see swirling in her eyes. As she began to shuffle naughtily back towards the headboard, he reached out, taking hold of her waist and pulling her up towards him. Before she even had the chance to make any sound of pleasure, he tilted his head, merging her lips with his. His hands ran down her spine, feeling every inch of his only prize in this world. Her body was tensed, still surprised at being plucked from her comfortable position on the large, four-poster bed. His lips began to explore the line of her jaw before making their way slowly down the front of her neck. His hands that firmly held her upright, pulled her closer into the shape of his own body. As he circled his fingers in the small of her back, Esme let out a little sigh of delight; he knew her favourite places to be touched all too well. With each circle they made, her body relaxed a little more until finally she was nothing but jelly in his hold. Her arms hung out to her sides, and her head fell slowly back as she allowed her husband to have her heart, her body and her mind and soul. As his lips roamed even further and down towards her breasts, Esme couldn't help but feel the tingle his lips left each time they momentarily left her skin, and a small, childish laugh escaped her lips.

"Well," she forced out breathlessly as one of his hands cupped her bottom. "This is new."

An even darker, more daring smile spread across Carlisle's now wild features, as he pulled her back towards him. His lips clashed again against hers with even more desperation and force than before, stealing the little remaining breath in her lungs. With surprising ease he lifted her from the floor, forcing her legs around his waist and clumsily stumbled back to the bed. One arm released her back, reaching out to stop them colliding with too much force on top of the bed. As they fell down, tangled together, he pushed them gracefully along the silk sheets until at last he allowed her body to touch the mattress. Esme's eyes widened with desire as she felt Carlisle press his own burning excitement against her thigh. That had done it, her mind soared to another dimension, what little defences she had created to tease him with, dispersed and her senses tingled and sparked with every touch. As Carlisle ran his hands up the inside of her leg and towards her thigh, a single moan of anticipation escaped her lips. His hands slid beneath her lightly dusted rose-pink blouse, feeling the warm skin beneath it. To any other human, she would have felt as cold as ice, but she was not with just any human. He was vampire, and he was hers. As another gasp of air burst from Esme's lips, Carlisle paused only long enough to see her teeth gently bite at the corner of her lip.

"Don't," he kissed her again, a devilish smile illuminating his features. "I want to hear everything you feel."

Knowing she was ready, that he had teased enough, one hand cupped her breast as the other pulled away from her back, around her stomach and down towards her pencil-grey skirt. As he broke the barrier her clothes created between them, and brought her even more delight, her arms flew out to her sides. Her hands grasped at the silky sheet beneath, as her back arched away and towards her husband. Shivers ripped through her causing every muscle to become more sensitive than she had thought possible. As he brought her almost to the point of exploding, she snarled, loudly and fiercely. Carlisle pulled himself up hastily, resting on one rippled arm, thinking he had hurt her. Though as he was about to ask if she was okay, she sprung herself up from the bed, pushed hard against his torso and sent him flying across the room. His eyes widened, unsure if this development in their lovemaking was good or bad, as he collided with the wall. The picture frame that had hung so peacefully to his left bounced and tumbled to the floor. The mirror to his right shook and smashed into several sharp shards that also spiralled towards the floor. As he watched one large piece spin downwards, he caught sight of Esme's reflection. His head spun back towards her, her position almost animalistic as she panted and sprang towards him.

"Love..." he began, suddenly feeling a little unnerved. Her usually neatly tied chestnut bun had become wild with several strands of hair now coming loose, and making their way down her back while others lay across her bright, beautiful eyes.

"Sssh," she encouraged hastily, slowing her spring to a sexy, slow saunter. As her hips mesmerized him, one gentle finger swung through the air to rest against his lips; words were not what she wanted right now. Esme waited a moment longer until he was once again smiling with delight, and she could see images of debauchery dancing in his eyes. Then, before he could even reach for her neck where he so desired to kiss, one of her nails glided swiftly down from his chest and through his trousers. He was about to remind her that this was his smartest, favourite suit she was tearing when her palms pressed against the muscles of his stomach in a tantalising manner. In a single, swift movement she tore away the shredded trousers and slid the jacket and shirt off his shoulders, exposing him completely to the elements about them.

"That's more like it," she grinned. Taking in her beauty, he ran one masculine finger across her lips, taking his hand behind her head in a cradling manor. He brought her closer to him, with the intention of ravaging her completely, when he realised one small problem...

"I find it highly unfair that you are dressed, my love, and I am not." His angelic features startled her momentarily, before she stepped back and swiftly removed her blouse, shoes, skirt, bra, and finally sliding out of her crystal white panties.

"Does that suit your requirements, _my love_," she taunted flirtatiously.

"It most certainly does."

This time, it was Esme who leant forwards to initiate the passionate, feisty kissing and lashing him with endless admiration. Barely able to contain himself any longer, Carlisle grasped Esme by her hips, spinning them around and pressing her firmly against the already dented wall. Esme smiled wickedly as she placed her steady hands on his shoulders in order to push herself up to her husband's level. As she did, Carlisle pulled her up, pressing her harder against the wall and pressing his body into hers. As she squealed delightfully, still desperately trying to keep down the noise, Carlisle refused to let her. As he bit, nibbled and licked at her neck, chest and lips, Esme attempted to reach down and take hold of his throbbing cock. But the moment he felt her move, he entered her, taking her by surprise, ecstasy and delight. The hand she had tried to find him with was quickly captured by his own and flung above her head where he held it firmly against the wall. He had her completely where he wanted her. Knowing that her husband was now in complete control, Esme growled sensually as she tilted her head and ran her teeth down his neck, allowing him to devour her completely. He thrust against her, not allowing her a second of rest. She dragged her nails across his back as he whispered her name, though it caught in his throat.

"CARLISLE!" a familiar male voice suddenly called out, and before either Carlisle or Esme knew what was happening, the bedroom door was flung open. To their horrified eyes, Edward flew into the room ... and rather quickly wished that he had knocked, or stayed outside, or not come home at all. Esme screamed in surprise, further startling Carlisle, and Edward. In her hurry to escape this rapidly escalating embarrassment, she pressed her feet against the wall and propelled herself forwards, knocking Carlisle backwards in her haste. Seeing nowhere fast enough to hide, she threw her naked body behind the bed, and as she fell to the ground, wrapped a fist full of bed sheet around her wrist and pulled it down over her. Edward on the other hand, had jammed his eyes shut and turned his back to his parents, mortifying horror almost knocking him from his sturdy feet; surely this was not real, just a trick of his obscure mind? It had to be. Realising what he had just partly witnessed, he began again for the door, his eyes now covered by his hands. Though as he reached the doorway, his exit was thwarted by the images and sounds of what had forced him home so soon, and realised that, as much as he REALLY wanted to, he could not leave. He would have to make conversation...

"Oh ... hell ..." Edward whined, shame for his parents lacing his usually mellow tone. Carlisle, who had been thrown back and had landed spread eagled on the floor, reached sheepishly up to take hold of anything he could get his hands on to cover himself. Luckily, a single pillow lay at the foot of the bed, which he snatched and placed over his exposed and still excited body.

"Edward!" Esme cried out, horror evident in her voice; though Edward was extremely grateful to _hear_ and not _see_ her this time.

"Esme?" Carlisle called back in a soft manner, trying to hold back laughter while verbally gauging if she was alright.

"Carlisle," Edward called in a harsher tone. He was insistent on speaking with him now.

"Yes, Edward?" Carlisle couldn't hold in his shameful laughter any longer, and through his deep chuckling he sat himself upright. "It's fine, I'm decent enough ... for now."

Esme's fingers slowly appeared on to the top of the mattress as she shyly forced herself to peek over the top of her thankfully placed shield of a bed. If her cheeks could have flushed, she would certainly have been mistaken for some sort of vegetable or fruit, maybe along the lines of a tomato, a strawberry even. As subtle as she believed her re-appearance to be, her dishevelled tangle of mischievous curls had given her hiding position away long before her shameful eyes had become visible above the mattress.

"What is it?" She finally asked in what should have been a breathless manner. Edward quickly composed himself, and after allowing his hand to drop to his sides once again, he slowly opened his eyes. What he had to say was not something he had ever expected to have to inform Carlisle and Esme of.

"It's Rosalie," he began in a worried, yet seemingly angry tone. Panic replaced the shocked expression of only a few moments ago.

"What now?"Carlisle sighed, prepared for another intervention of some sort.

"It's not what you think." Edward picked up a sweater of Carlisle's that lay by his feet and threw it to him, still aware that he was talking to the naked couple who were wearing nothing but shame. "She outright refused to hunt with me, so I let her go alone."

"Oh, Edward!" Esme exclaimed again, suddenly worried where this apparently important conversation was leading, but Edward raised his hand out before him to indicate that he was not concluded. Allowing him to continue talking, Esme hurriedly gathered clothes from the chest of draws behind her, and began dressing again.

"I kept track of her thoughts, to make sure she was safe..."

"Is she?" Carlisle interjected with concern, and clearly now to Edward's annoyance.

"I'm not sure. I can't believe she is even doing this ..." Edward shook his head as Esme, who was now fully dressed, headed across the room to his side. "She found a human."

"I see," Carlisle said in a low tone and quickly began to re-dress himself, knowing full well what Edward was referring too. Rosalie was still a relatively new vampire after all so she was bound to, though he hoped she would not, lose control at some point.

"She's bringing him here, Carlisle," Edward's eyes fixed firmly on Carlisle, no hint of a joke in his hard expression. "She's putting us all in danger."

"She fed from him?" Carlisle asked concernedly.

"No, not exactly..." Edward replied hesitantly.

"She's here," Esme announced as the scent of fresh blood drifted through the house.

"Carlisle! Esme!" Rosalie's distressed voice called out, echoing through the long corridors of their latest home. "Help! HELP ME."

Before Rosalie had even finished calling for their assistance, the three of them had already joined her in the living room. Edward and Esme halted at the door as they eyed the torn apart human, and the overwhelming scent of fresh, delicious blood attacked their willpower. Carlisle however, headed straight for Rosalie.

"Take him!" she instructed, her face showing all the signs of her struggle, her arms and clothes soaked in blood. The man in her arms was barely conscious, and much, much larger than Rosalie herself. His eyelids fluttered open every few seconds, and seemed to be trying to focus upon the small woman holding him. Across his chest were several extremely deep slashes that Carlisle knew instantly he would not be able to repair due to the visible fractured bones. From his quick examination, it also appeared as though one of his legs was broken, most likely into several pieces. That may be salvageable with a splint of some sort. Carlisle hastily refocused his worried eyes on Rosalie. Her lips quivered as she tried hard not to lean down and suck the remaining life from this poor man. Her brow was furrowed, but her eyes were wide with fear.

"Take ... him," she asked much weaker than before and with tremendous difficulty. Carlisle stepped closer and reached out his arms for the human, who was instantly dumped into them. As Rosalie released her grip on the man, Esme flew to her side, cupping Rosalie's face in her hands.

"How did you manage this, Rosalie?" she asked, trying to think of anything but the blood her daughter was covered in. "We should change your clothes. Edward, fetch some of Rosalie's fresh clothes."

"You cannot be serious," Edward growled, more focused upon Rosalie's thoughts than what was being asked of him. "She wants _you_ to change him, Carlisle. After everything you have said Rose?"

Carlisle looked up from the patient he had carefully placed on their cream couch, confusion swirling in his eyes. The man moaned from the place that was soon to become his death bed. Rosalie did not answer or even acknowledge Edward or Esme, and pulled away from them. Holding her breath, she glided over to Carlisle's side, knelt beside him, and took hold of the dying man's hand. As the man's eyes fluttered open again, Rosalie stared down into them. They were a chocolate brown, though the blood surrounding them and the burst vessels against the white of his eyes made it hard to tell.

"Where did you find him?" Carlisle asked gently as he looked into her eyes. "You haven't fed from him. Good."

"He was in a clearing with a bear. It's dead now ... I was ... he smelt so ... good..." Carlisle shifted subtly closer to Rosalie as he could see her begin to be drawn in by the aroma of blood.

"I'm extremely proud of you Rose," he encouraged, as the man cried out again. "Esme, towels please."

"Proud of her?" Edward scoffed from the corner of the living room.

Carlisle glanced up, throwing Edward a warning look. "This must have been very hard for you to do. I am proud that you did not kill him."

"I ... couldn't..." She began, and as the man gurgled with the blood collecting in his throat, Rosalie flew to her feet. "SAVE HIM! Don't let him die. Do what you did to me."

"Rosalie, this is not something that should be decided lightly," Carlisle responded thoughtfully.

"Honey, I highly doubt she decided this on a whim. She has managed to resist his blood and bring him all the way here." Esme offered her opinion carefully as she flitted back into the room and handed Carlisle several fresh towels.

"One hundred miles," Rosalie recalled. The man on the couch cried out in agony, accidentally spitting a few specks of blood towards Rosalie. As they landed against her cheek, Rosalie's horrified eyes jammed shut as she hastily backed away and pressed her body into the wall. "Hurry! He's going to die!"

Carlisle examined the young man once again before glancing up towards his wife. "Edward, Rosalie ... leave us a moment please."

"No problem," Edward replied and after a quick concerned look to the human, was out of the door.

"NO. I won't go. I won't ..." Rosalie smiled softly to herself, a wave of calm washing through her as the man turned his head to look at her. "I won't leave him."

"Ang ...el," the man managed to say between weak coughs.

"I'm no angel," Rosalie murmured bitterly, a soft look in her eyes as she looked upon him.

Carlisle took to his feet and wiped the blood from his hands one of the towels. He could see Esme was struggling with the amount of blood, and knew this decision had to be made fast.

"What do think?" he asked, clearly unsure what to do for the best.

"I think there is something there, love." Esme turned to see Rosalie. "Look at the way she looks at him."

"You're right. But Rosalie has been so, hesitant, cruel at times about my turning her. Do you think changing that young man will be any different in her eyes?" Carlisle's brow creased into a frown.

"I think that she could be happy. Can we deny her that chance?" Esme soothed.

"I ... I'm not sure." Carlisle pressed his lips to Esme's forehead. "Could you see if Edward is alright? I'll see to Rosalie."

As Esme left, Carlisle returned to the sofa, kneeling once again. As he did, Rosalie flew once again to his side, wanting to be near her new found human. Carlisle took the man's arm in his cold, hard hands and glanced up to Rosalie who stood nervously over him.

"If this will make you happy ... If you will forgive me for turning you ... then ... I can change him. He is dying Rosalie, so I am breaking no rules." It was unsure who Carlisle was trying to convince, himself, or his daughter.

"I cannot promise to forgive you, Carlisle. But I can learn to live with it. Save him, for me, and I will be eternally grateful to you." Rosalie placed a shaking hand on his shoulder as she looked pleadingly into his eyes.

"I should ask you to leave, but I am sure you will refuse," Carlisle chuckled half-heartedly.

"You're right, I would."

With that said, Carlisle watched as Rosalie turned and glided to the window. He looked back to the boy, almost certain that he was going to do the right thing for both the human and his daughter. Maybe he was the one for Rosalie. Maybe he would make things right here again. The man squirmed in Carlisle's grasp as his final, desperate breaths forced their way from his lungs and through his drained of colour lips. Knowing he only had seconds, Carlisle apologised to him, pressed the man's weak arms to the Sofa, closed his eyes and let his lips cut through the warm flesh easily.

That was the easy part, the hard part, was stopping.

_A/N: I hope you like! At the moment this is a one shot – but I may write more soon as I am loving writing Carlisle and Esme. Shall see where it goes.__ Please leave a review and let me know what you think, if you like, hate, want more... thank you!_


	2. An overruling mind

_A/n: Thanks for the lovely reviews everyone! Apologies this has taken so long, but I wanted to get it right. I was inspired after watching Eclipse (again) to write more than a one-shot, so, here it is! I really hope you all enjoy this chapter, I'm sure there will be more to come after this too ... maybe! Sorry if it takes a little time to upload ... I love reviews, don't you? *grins*_

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**An overruling mind**

'_I'm not strong enough to stay away,_

_Can't run from you, I just run back to you._

_Like a moth I'm drawn into your flame, you say my name, but it's not the same._

_You look in my eyes, I'm stripped of my pride, and my soul surrenders,_

_And you bring my heart to its knees._

_And it's killing me when you're away, I wanna leave, I don't wanna stay._

_I'm so confused, so hard to choice between the pleasure and the pain,_

_And I know it's wrong and I know it's right_

_Even if I try to win the fight,_

_My heart would overrule my mind, and I'm not strong enough to stay away._

_-'Not strong enough' by Apocalyptica, ft. Brent Smith_

* * *

He felt the blood from the human's neck swell and flood his pallet. Its sweet, irony taste began nicking at Carlisle's taste buds, taunting and seducing them. This had never been easy, not with Edward, nor Rosalie, and not even when he had saved the love of his long life, Esme. The boy had almost stopped struggling, and no longer drifted in and out of consciousness in his fight for life. His eyes wondered blankly about him, his limbs becoming gradually more immobile as they hung from the couch aimlessly ... Carlisle recognised this moment perfectly; the last moment of human awareness before death. Meanwhile, the boy's misty and vague eyes continued to search the large living room, and settled finally upon Rosalie. Carlisle could sense every movement the boy made while his teeth remained deep within the flesh of his neck, and rapidly he returned his attention to the task he was now so deeply involved with, knowing he could not allow himself to be distracted by the boy's obvious fascination with his daughter, or her deathly silence. To help himself focus, he listened intently to the only living heart in the room as its thudding beat fluttered, and slowed. It was hard to stop when there was no fighting back, when Carlisle couldn't hear the screams of humanity leaving his victims. Edward had screamed, Rosalie too, though Esme had initially remained silent until the raging fires had erupted within her. _Victim_ ... that's exactly what they felt like to him at this point, when he would steal away their last hope of a normal existence, and replace it with his own poison's immortality.

As these thoughts circled and punished his mind, Carlisle tried hard to push aside the immoral thoughts in favour for ones where he believed himself to be doing good, and where he played the saviour. But do not misunderstand, he was not thinking these thoughts for his own heroic pride, or even for the gratitude he may later receive, but because he could not let his daughter down, not when she had so suffered in two lives already, as he knew they all had. Though unlike them, it was clear to him that Rosalie had not managed to move past the horrors of her death, and this new life bestowed upon her. And even after all the years that had passed them by, Carlisle could not help but feel that his turning of Edward and Esme had been, to some extent, for selfish reasons. But this time would be different. He gained nothing from this, nothing except the hope and promise of happiness for his daughter.

The blood from the pulsating veins continued to squirt to the back of Carlisle's throat, and he could feel his venom flow and begin to set viciously upon it. With the leak of his venom, came the tug of desire to feed, and kill. Carlisle's eyes flew suddenly open; his muscles fast growing taut with tension. And as though they were going to prevent him from falling into the murderous trap before him, his hands clasped tightly on to anything that they could. If Rosalie had been watching him now, she would have seen the torment that pained his features, and in this split moment, he was grateful that she was not. These thoughts of his daughter forced his eyes to the large window where she stood in misery, in envy, and in loneliness. This would make her happy; he had to convince himself of that or there was no hope for the boy to survive this. This would certainly be his final act of kindness ... never again would he bite a human, he had decided that the moment his first mental struggle had begun. He also knew that with this one final act of kindness, he could repay Rosalie for the pain he had caused by turning her. His eyes settled upon his daughter as he took in her stance. Her arms were folded tightly across her chest, but it was her eyes that stared sadly, not through the glass, or even on it, but somewhere between the two that caught his attention the most. He watched as she swallowed hard, her eyes fluttered shut, and one hand lifted less gracefully than usual to her pursed lips. There was a brief moment by which he saw a small flicker of hope within her eyes, and he knew instantly that it was what he had been searching for; hope.

He forced his eyes away from Rosalie and back to the neck his teeth were clamped into. He had to let go, he had already allowed enough venom to flood the human, and any more would likely kill him.

'_NOW_,' he firmly thought to himself, though every inch of his tensed body refused to release the boy. He had to stop now. He had hoped Rosalie being near him would have been enough to stop the burning desire that he knew would come, but he had possibly miscalculated quite how hungry he was, which would make this all the more difficult. As his torment and torture continued, he scrunched his eyes tightly shut, and thought of Esme.

"Thank you," he was sure he heard Rosalie whisper from across the room, and with the delightful thoughts of his wife, and the timely thanks from his daughter, he felt his muscles begin to relax. This was swiftly followed by his creased expression beginning to soften. It felt like it took a lifetime, but in reality the next few events happened in only a matter of seconds. His hand that had almost crushed the boy's arm released it, and with all the strength of what should have been ten men, Carlisle pulled his teeth from the flesh and rapidly bit down upon his own knuckles. This part was important; it had prevented him previously from springing back and killing Edward, Esme and Rosalie. And so he was certain that it would work in curbing his temptation now. He heard Rosalie shuffle as she seemed to become aware that he had released the human.

"Is it done?" she asked in a strangely calm and muffled tone.

Carlisle slowly brought himself to his feet as he looked to her, waiting for her to turn her attention to him, before nodding sharply. Seeing his small gesture, Rosalie sighed noisily with relief as her hands flew to her hair, and swept through the golden strands.

"I can't thank you enough. I know how ... difficult ... that must have been for you, Carlisle." She smiled a small, uncertain smile as Carlisle stepped away from the couch.

"You're ... most ... welcome, Rosalie," he replied, struggling to form the words with the human's blood still seducing his senses. "If you wouldn't mind, I need a moment alone."

"Yes, of course. But I'm not leaving ... if that's not too much trouble," she queried while taking a few small, cautious strides towards the couch.

Carlisle paused thoughtfully for a moment before replying, "I see no reason why I should stay here and you should not. At any rate, I must clean up, but I don't want the temptation of his blood to become too much for you."

"It doesn't bother me. Not now the venom is spreading." Rosalie reached out one hand to Carlisle, resting it uneasily on the tip of his shoulder. He knew that this was her way to show her appreciation; but still, it had been so long since she had shown him any thanks at all, that it came as a bit of a surprise. Regardless, he was uplifted by her attempts, and so smiled reassuringly toward her, pressing his hand to hers, before walking slowly to the foot of the couch to check on the human's condition. He seemed to be doing as well as expected. No change yet was a good sign. The venom would take a little time to cause him discomfort, as he had been so close to death, and unaware of what was happening. But Carlisle knew that eventually the screaming and writhing would begin, and that would be hard for them all to hear. He only hoped that Rosalie could cope with it once it came. But he would be there for Rosalie, and the boy, just as Esme would want to be also no doubt.

Rosalie had already beaten him to the couch, and was knelt down close to the human's head. Carlisle looked over them protectively for a moment, as with one hand he watched her reach out to the boy and run her fingers through his dark, curly hair. Carlisle had never been prouder of Rosalie than he had in this moment, the restraint she had shown in bringing him here was incredible, and as he watched her worried eyes examine the human, he felt contented in his decision to change him.

"Excuse me then for a moment, won't you Rose?" he asked her softly, regretting that he needed to interrupt the clearly intimate moment she was sharing with the boy.

"Of course, but wait ..." As she spoke, she pointed to the lonesome chair in the corner of the room. "Esme left us fresh clothes and towels. There's also a bucket of alcohol to burn our clothes with once we're changed ... no pun intended."

"Thank you, Rose. I didn't even see her leave them," Carlisle smiled lovingly at the thoughts of his wife planning ahead for them. It was so very like her, even in moments of haste and panic, she had already prepared.

"It was as you bit him," Rosalie recalled, her eyes once again lost in the features of the human.

Carlisle nodded, suddenly feeling a little anxious that Esme may have seen what he had done, "I see. Then I think I should speak with her."

He walked swiftly towards the chair, and as he approached it, he leant down, taking the black towel that lay neatly atop the clothes. He dunked one end in the bucket to soak the alcohol before wiping it over his face, hands, neck, and arms, making sure to wipe away every inch of his sin. He glanced back to Rosalie, and seeing she was deeply engaged with the human, he hurriedly slipped into the drawing room to change his bloodied clothes. As he peered out of the small window to his left, he spied Esme and Edward hovering at the end of the garden under the rising moonlight. A small smile crept its way to his lips; an unconscious reaction that occurred whenever he laid his golden eyes upon his small, yet apparently growing, family. It was obvious that Esme was attempting to reason with Edward, who seemed calm, yet Carlisle safely assumed he was being overtly annoyed about Rosalie's actions today. He searched hard for his wife's eyes, and when she turned in his direction momentarily, he saw the dull glint of worry within them. She had never seen him change anyone before, if indeed she had, and he knew there was bound to be overwhelming emotions bubbling within her now.

He paused for a moment longer, before fastening the buttons of his clean waistcoat, gathering the pile of dirtied clothes, and silently wondering back to the lone chair in the living room. A quick look to Rosalie reassured him that nothing had changed while he had been absent, and he assumed that she had not even notice him leave.

"How would I tell if it's working?" she suddenly shattered the silence with.

Carlisle paused, placing the clothes beside the alcohol filled bucket and asked, "How do you mean?"

"I mean, how can I tell if he will become like us?" The question seemed obvious to him now. Rosalie had not, just like Esme, been privy to such an act before. And as she had wished, she knew nothing of the events that took place during her change.

"There will be subtle changes at first, internal ones that won't be noticeable to us. I wouldn't be surprised if that has already begun." He paused once more to smile warmly to Rosalie, as she in return looked worriedly to him. "It's all normal, don't worry. Eventually, after his internal wounds have healed with the spreading venom, larger changes will begin with the wounds visible to us."

Carlisle eyed Rosalie as she turned her head back to the boy, and pressed her forehead gently to his still chest. "And then he will begin to scream."

"Yes," he answered directly, and nodding slowly. There would certainly be screams of agony. There was no question of that, and no point in trying to hide that fact from her. "I'm sure that will be troubling for you to hear, Rosalie, but it will be a good sign. It means he is living again, of sorts. And will be on his way to a smooth recovery."

"That's reassuring," she said in a tone less positive than Carlisle had hoped for. "He could hate me for doing this to him."

"I'm sure we can deal with that when he awakes, try to put your mind at ease for the time being." Carlisle seemed more to be reassuring himself, than Rosalie. The man was large in size let alone the rippled muscles lining his body ... if he were to awake and attack them, then Carlisle was not sure how easily they would manage to detain him.

"Just look at how I have behaved towards you, Carlisle," she shook her head gently, pity surging from her. "And now I have asked of you the one thing I have so hated you for!"

Carlisle remained perfectly still as he mulled over his daughter's words. "If it makes you happy, then there is no regret from this act. We need only to explain to him that he was dying regardless and that ..."

Rosalie curtly interrupted him, "... and that instead of a pleasant death, we brought you to hell."

"Rosalie," Carlisle sighed. "There is no use in punishing yourself. What you have done for him, is save him, and show him another way. There is no possible way for us to know how he will react, and for now, it is important that we make him as comfortable as possible."

Rosalie snorted at that, and Carlisle watched her settle herself on the floor beside the silent human. It was clear to him that she had no intention of leaving the boy, even if he suggested to her that she needed to hunt and gain her strength for his awakening. One again, deciding that the situation was as stable as it could be for now, he decided it was time to check on Esme. Hurriedly, he gathered his clothes from the floor, dropped them in the bucket, and made his way over to the doorway, pausing only to say,

"Make sure to clean yourself soon. We don't want the first thing he smells to be human blood, whether it be his own or not."

He threw one last cautious look to Rosalie, before placing his icy hand on the door knob and turning it silently. He was almost through the door when Rosalie's voice halted him once more.

"I feel so alone," she murmured, either to him, or to herself. But unsure of which, he remained paused in the doorway and glanced back to her. "Though, maybe that will change now ... Is this how it happens?"

A confused frown creased his smooth, porcelain features, "I'm sorry Rosalie? Is this how what happens?"

"Love," was all she replied with.

He scoffed gently in an understanding manner, "It is different for each of us. It's a devilish thing that sneaks up on you ...Do you ... feel something for the human, Rosalie?"

"I don't know that I love him. I don't know that I love anyone ..." she flashed him a quick, apologetic look. "I just know there is ... something about him. That's all."

Carlisle smiled knowingly, "Yes, there was _something _about Esme too. We shall wait and see."

And with that, he slipped through the doorway, pulling it shut behind him.

...

"How are you both doing?" Carlisle asked as he approached Esme and Edward at the end of the garden. Night had fallen, and the moon was shining brightly above them.

"Just fine, honey," Esme chimed reassuringly as she turned towards him at the sound of his voice. The moonlight danced of her pale skin, illuminating her beauty to him.

As he reached Esme and swept her in to an eagerly anticipated embrace, he noticed Edward push himself off the tree to his right, and march with purpose towards them.

"She's a fool, Carlisle!" he blurted out loudly. "How could she be so selfish? ... Daft question, it is Rosalie after all. Think of herself and be damned what happens to the rest of us."

"Edward, that's enough," Carlisle urged him gently, "Rosalie is an important part of this family, and you know that. I understand that you're angry, but Rosalie acted as she did for a reason, and I honestly don't think she has made this decision lightly."

"I agree entirely. I have already tried to explain that," Esme informed him as she threw Edward a mildly disapproving glance, before looking back to Carlisle with that dull glint of worry he earlier perceived within her eyes. "How is Rosalie doing?"

He smiled reassuringly, before wrapping his arms tighter around Esme's shoulder as he drew her even closer, "She's managing as well as can be expected. Though, she did surprise me with something she mentioned."

Edward narrowed his eyes and it quickly became clear to Carlisle that he was delving into his thoughts.

"What? What happened?" Esme asked as her eyes searched between the two of them, not wanting to be the last to know, but realising that that was inevitable.

"You can't be serious?" Edward snorted with a disbelieving, almost disgusted smile creasing his smooth, masculine features. "Love ... she thinks she's in love with him."

"Oh! How wonderful! I think that is just what she needs," Esme's eyes lit up instantly, as she quickly came to the conclusion that Rosalie had found her mate. "Do you think he's 'the one'?"

"This is ludicrous. Can you not see the dangers she's just laid out before us?" Edward fumed as he began impatiently pacing back and forth before them.

"How do you mean, Edward?" Carlisle questioned, though he was sure he knew the answers. They would certainly have to move again now; they could not risk someone recognising the boy if he was local to the area. "We may have to move again, but that is nothing new for us."

"Not just that. I'm sure you noticed the size of that human? He's going to be strong when he wakes, is that not concerning to you in the least?" Edward continued as his arms flew about him.

"Oh, yes, I see your point Edward," Esme mused. "He will be even stronger as a newborn while his own blood still lingers in his tissues ... but ... if he returns Rosalie's feelings than maybe that won't ..."

Carlisle quickly interrupted his wife, not wanting to raise her hopes too much in case of disappointment later, and also trying to deter Edward's anger somewhat, "She doesn't know that she loves him, honey. She only suggested that she thought she felt something for him."

"Yeah," Edward scoffed again as he continued to pace. "She hasn't even spoken with him! He was dying for heaven's sake. How can you know that he's the one?"

"Edward!" Esme said with a little more upset in her tone this time. "Please. May I suggest that just this once you listen to Rosalie? I give you permission to hear her thoughts and see how she is really feeling. Try to see this from her point of view."

"I agree," Carlisle said, flashing his wonderful wife a tantalising and supportive smile. "I can see where you are coming from Edward. None of us really needed this at the present time, but it could be good for us. Think about that too."

"And I hate that you are both lonely." Esme murmured as she gently squeezed Carlisle's arm. She pulled away from Carlisle as she moved towards Edward once more in an attempt to calm him. "We will get through this, but we will need your help too. The three of us cannot do this alone."

"Of course I will help you, Esme, there is no question of that. But I just can't understand how this is acceptable behaviour from Rosalie, and that you are so easily letting her do it. That's all." It was clear to Carlisle that Edward had calmed almost instantly as Esme had wrapped her arms around his waist.

"We need to discuss this, you are quite right, but now is not the time. Rosalie will need us, and the boy will begin to change soon," Carlisle spoke gently, compassion for both his son's and daughter's feelings evident in his tone as he tried to balance them both.

"Yes. With her, preferably," Edward agreed, as he returned Esme's gentle and hopeful smile. "I won't say anything to her, and I'll take the time to listen, but that's all I promise for the time being."

'_Edward, I would appreciate your discretion in this, but I need a moment alone with_ _Esme,' _Carlisle thought. _'We can pick this up later on, I am not ignoring your concerns.'_

Edward looked to Carlisle, holding his gaze for a moment before speaking in a muffled voice, "I should go tidy my room."

Esme's eyes widened ... he wanted to tidy? "Really?" she questioned him with astonishment.

"Yes, really," Edward nodded, as he began making his way back towards the house. "We WILL carry this conversation on later though."

"Of course," Carlisle agreed as he smiled and drew Esme back into his arms before thinking, _'Thank you, Edward.'_

"No problem," he called back, which instantly aroused Esme's suspicions.

Her golden eyes looked teasingly, yet questioningly up to her husband, "Did you ask him to leave?"

"No," he replied, trying to hide the small lie from her, "Esme, can we talk?"

"Always, what's wrong? Everything is okay with the boy, isn't it?" she asked, suddenly feeling a tug of worry building within her.

"Rosalie and the boy are doing well. I wanted to speak with you about ..." he trailed off, unsure how to bring up such a sensitive topic, though he knew it was important to think of her feelings also.

He ran his hands lovingly over her hair to smooth down the few stray strands, before noticing that Esme was staring up and into his eyes. She knew him well enough to know that he wanted to discuss something of importance, if he required them to be alone, "Take your time."

He took one long, deep, and unnecessary breath before speaking gently, "Rosalie mentioned that you might have come into the room at some point. I was ... I was hoping that you saw nothing that was too ... hard, no ... difficult for you to see."

Esme smiled warmly and understandingly as she took Carlisle by the hand and led him swiftly to the bench under the large oak tree, "Honey, I saw nothing but what I knew you had to do."

Carlisle nodded, feeling slightly annoyed at himself for letting her see as he sat himself down and drew Esme into his lap, "I hoped that you would never be privy to such an action performed by myself. I do not enjoy it, Esme. It is such a large part of our lives that I detest so much, but I know that it had to be done. Even if it is the last time I allow myself to do so."

"That is your decision, honey, only you can decide that. But just remember that this was for Rosalie, to make her happy, and in turn I hope that it will bring us happiness too," Esme said in nothing more than a whisper as she gently pressed her lips to his temple. "I would have done the same, if I had the strength that you do."

"You honestly think that it takes strength to do what I've done?" he asked uncertainly as he tightened his arms around her waist, pulling her as close as humanly possible.

"I think it takes more than strength! It takes love, compassion, bravery, and honesty with yourself. You are a far greater person than any of us for doing such a hard thing, and for someone else," Esme continued as she lavished him with small, tentative kisses.

"You, my love, are the greatest of people that I know, not I," he responded feeling a little more reassured than before. As her lips passed over his nose and towards his cheek, he lifted his own lips up to meet hers, desiring more reassurance that he knew her familiar lips could offer him. "Esme, you truly are a wonder."

"Hummm," she mumbled against his lips before a small giggle broke through hers, "Yes. I am! But I wonder mostly how Rosalie is doing alone in there."

She kissed him again, this time with more passion than he had expected, before she swiftly brought herself to her feet. As she did so, there was a deep, agonising cry that rang through the house and towards them.

"Carlisle!" Rosalie's voice swiftly followed the scream.

"I'd say she is frightened, and that the human is beginning to feel the venom," Carlisle said sadly. He hated this part. Hated the long wait ahead of them as he knew he could do nothing but watch the poor individual.

"It'll be fine, I promise you," Esme offered encouragingly as she too lifted her small frame from the bench. With one loving smile, she took his hand, "Shall we?"


End file.
